


Study Session

by Whoreofaneboy



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU, David | Technoblade/Wilbur Soot, Drunk Sex, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Intoxicated Sex, Lemon, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minecraft, NSFW, Oneshot, Smut, Studying, Wine, cuz of the alcohol, idk what their ship name is, mcyt - Freeform, mlm, soft, technobur, wilblade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25967035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whoreofaneboy/pseuds/Whoreofaneboy
Summary: After staying up too late studying, and having too much wine, Techno and Wilbur spend an intimate night together.~This is very soft be warned.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade/Other(s), Technoblade/Wil, Wilbur Soot/Other(s), Wilbur Soot/Technoblade
Comments: 41
Kudos: 675
Collections: Falling Apart.





	Study Session

**Author's Note:**

> So this is pretty different from what I usually write, but i wanted to try my hand at writing something soft and consensual. Also I have no idea how popular this ship is but tbh I just wanted to write some Wilbur content. Enjoy!
> 
> Oh and uh i have an MCYT discord that’s very nsfw supportive with lots of channels for darker content and a fun medieval theme!  
> https://discord.gg/AzcYxnav6j
> 
> Hope to see you there!

There were two bottles, one a heavy Cabernet, and the other a lighter Bordeaux, and it had seemed like more than enough to Wilbur. Though he knew techno could handle his alcohol a bit better, and he’d probably drink more. It was just the two of them tonight, cramped into their little dorm, books, notebooks, and pens scattered across their laps and on the floor.

The faded leather couch they rested on was just big enough for both young men to sit comfortably. Wilbur had one long leg tucked under himself, the other dangling off the couch. He poured over a small textbook, a dreadfully boring thing, taking messy notes in a journal sitting beside him. Occasionally he eyed the bottles of wine sitting over on his bedside table.

Techno was reading something, a novel for one of his classes. He flipped quickly through it’s yellowed pages, face scrunched in concentration. The look in his eyes signaled an oncoming headache, and Wilbur knew he’d be getting one soon too. He wanted to warn techno about his posture, too hunched, putting pressure on his neck. But he had a certain page to reach and Wilbur didn’t want to ruin his streak.

Soft classical music played from Techno’s phone, resting in the center of the couch. No doubt it would shut off soon, they’d been at this for hours, and Techno was guilty of never charging his phone until it finally died and he didn’t have a choice. Wilbur smiled, thinking about the time they’d been stuck in a parking garage for two hours because the car had broken down and neither of them had been smart enough to charge their phones before going off on an ‘adventure.’

Wilbur checked the time, seeing it was just past four-thirty in the morning, and he yawned. He forced himself to return his attention to the textbook, knowing he wasn’t quite done with his reading. He found himself slumping forward, resting his head in his hand as he struggled to focus in the dim light of a lamp and through his smudged glasses.

These Friday evening study sessions with Techno had become a ritual, and one that was invaluable to both of them, but sometimes the actual studying part got a little old. It was more about spending time with a good friend. Although this was much, much later than their sessions usually took place, and there was a strange energy in the room as they both struggled to keep focused.

Suddenly Techno slammed his book closed.

“Done,” he said with a relieved sigh, dropping the book at his feet and yawning. Though Wilbur wasn’t done he closed his book, and did the same.

“You heading to bed?” Wilbur asked, pushing himself to his feet and stretching mightily. Techno’s eyes lingered on the collar of his sweater and he looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Not yet.” He laughed softly, “I think I’m ready for a drink though.” 

“I agree with that,” Wilbur beamed, striding over towards his nightstand and grabbing the bottle of Bordeaux, and two clunky glasses from a drawer.

“You have  _ glasses _ ?” Techno asked on a laugh, and Wilbur smiled, plopping down beside him and handing him one.

“Of course,” he replied, “I’m not an animal.” Then he realized. “Oh shit the bottle opener.” Quickly he went back over to his nightstand and grabbed it, returning to the couch. He put the bottle between his legs, and carefully removed the cork, setting it aside.

He poured himself a glass, and then offered the bottle to Techno who took it, still with a stupid smile plastered to his face.

“Thanks,” Techno said, pouring some of the rich red liquid into his glass. He set the bottle down on the ground, and Wilbur held his glass up towards their shitty little lamp, watching the way it reflected the light.

He crossed his legs, and then he took a long, slow sip. His eyes lit up in surprise, for a moderate price it was much better than he’d expected it to be. It was a bit sour for a Bordeaux, but it had a smooth finish, and some subtle notes of cloves and cherries. Techno would have mocked him for the commentary.

Wilbur took a second sip, as the warmth of the first crept slowly up his chest in the way that it always did. He sank back into the couch sighing contentedly, and casting a glance over at Techno.

“What do you think?” He asked.

“Tastes like grape juice,” Techno replied. Wilbur rolled his eyes, pushing his hair back from his face and sitting up a little straighter.

“You’re fucking stupid.” 

“I’m an uncultured American, what can I say?” Wilbur moved closer, elbowing him gently. Techno loved to play dumb, but he was one of the smartest people Wilbur knew.

“Come on, tell me what you think.”

“Alright, it’s pretty good, kind of sweet though.”

“It’s a Bordeaux.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

Wilbur laughed, “of course you don’t.” So they talked and drank for what was easily an hour, neither inclined to check the time as they made their way through several glasses each. Wilbur just tried to ignore the fact that he was essentially morning drinking, and was going to have a very weirdly timed hangover tomorrow.

Everything was just soft, easy. He wasn’t sure if it was techno or all the wine, it easily could have been both. There was something so special about this time of day. He just didn’t care about anything, didn’t have to worry or stress. Techno’s laugh was warm and comforting as he leaned against his shoulder. They seemed to grow closer every minute.

They were like magnets, undeniably, uncontrollably drawn to each other as they prattled on about everything and nothing.

Wilbur threw his arm over Techno’s shoulder, practically giggling, feeling the soft pink hair at the base of his skull, the warmth of his skin.

“It’s a good quote,” Wilbur insisted, and Techno was too complacent to argue as Wilbur whispered in his ear. “ _ Heard melodies are sweet but those unheard are sweeter _ .” Techno drained his glass, and set it down on the floor, a sly smile on his face as he bent over, gone when he returned.

“Aren’t you into music?” Techno asked.

“It’s still a good quote.”

“Okay, well,  _ Love is my religion _ ,” Techno recited, with an almost mocking tone, but strange sincerity lingered within his words.

“You can’t quote the same writer,” Wilbur pouted. And for some reason he was blushing, harder than the wine had made him before.

“Are you tired, Techno?” Wilbur asked, putting emphasis on his name in a soft, needy sort of way. 

“Yeah,” he said, and Wilbur felt disheartened for a moment before he spoke again, “but I like being awake with you.”

He leans in closer and Wilbur slides his arm back around the other’s shoulder, just like he had before, like it was meant to be there. Techno’s head leaned against his own. Wilbur felt so warm right now. Why was he so warm? He’d always cared about Techno but there was something else in his body now.

“ _ Touch has a memory _ _ , _ ” Techno muttered, voice low and rumbling.  _ Desire _ . His thoughts were fuzzy but he couldn’t help the desire he was feeling, the warmth of alcohol buzzing in his veins egging it on. Did he want to cross this line with Techno?  _ Yes _ , a voice inside him said.

“ _ Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced , _ ” a recitation but the feeling came from deep inside of him. He rested his hand on Techno’s shoulder, moving to face him. It felt like a question, a confession. He felt Techno tense, hoping he hadn’t just done the wrong thing.

“What?” Techno asked?

“I-I want you, Techno,” Wilbur said shakily. He looked into Techno’s gray eyes, awash with confusion. He couldn’t blame him. This had come on so suddenly but somehow he was certain, through the wine and unlawful hour of morning.

Techno’s gaze softened. “I want you too, Wilbur.” He felt an overwhelming rush of heat in his body. Techno’s hand came up to tangle in his hair, tugging him closer and pressing their lips together. And it was  _ everything . _

His body melted into Techno’s, savoring the press of his lips, soft, warm, reassuring. Then Wilbur was being pulled onto the other’s lap, running his fingers through Techno’s pink hair, admiring how their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle. There was nothing else, nothing in that moment that mattered, nothing that existed in the world.

He was half hard and he could feel Techno was too, desire building rapidly. Techno’s hands slipped under the edge of his sweater, running along his skin, as Wilbur’s hips rocked desperately back and forth, moaning softly. He wanted to feel more of Techno, he wanted to be touched. He hadn't realized he missed this feeling.

“Techno,” he whispered softly as his mouth trailed from Wilbur’s to his jaw. His lips pursed gently against the skin as he sucked on it with intent like it was the sweetest thing in the world. Wilbur gasped softly, the barest inhalation as Techno’s teeth scraped his throat. The press of his tongue left Wilbur’s neck damp and warm as he moved slowly down to the collar of his sweater.

Techno paused, pulling away to look at him, lips still parted, finger now hooked under the neck of his sweater, gently caressing his collarbone. A question flashed in his eyes, full of need but still tender. Wilbur nodded eagerly and in a moment he removed the garment, and let it fall softly to the floor beside them.

Techno grinned at him, lips shining, eyes hazy.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, and it felt so strange to hear those words from his friend. But it felt right, it felt so good. He didn’t feel guilty to have Techno’s eyes on him like this. “I could die for this.  _ I could die for you _ .”

“Stop quoting Keats you pretentious fucker,” Wilbur scolded, but he knew his face was such a deep shade of red now he wondered if it would ever go back to normal.

“You started it.”

Techno licked his lips, and rapidly undid the buttons on his own shirt, tossing it aside. He placed his hands on Wilbur’s upper thighs, gently sliding him off his lap, and standing up from the couch. 

“Lay down,” Techno instructed, and Wilbur complied. He observed lazily as Techno walked over to his dresser. Wilbur’s curious eyes lingered on the muscles on his back, broad shoulders, and uncharacteristically pronounced posture that had his shoulder blades sticking out. His pants sat low on his hips. Wilbur’s slacks were far too tight in the front to handle this properly.

Techno returned with a bottle of lube, and Wilbur let his legs fall open, one dangling off the edge of the couch as he looked at Techno questioningly.

“Don’t you have any condoms?” 

Techno rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Uh, no. Do you?”

“No. Am I going to catch something from you?”

“Of course not, you’re the whore.”

Wilbur scoffed. “My body is a  _ temple _ .” He’d picked his head up, but now he let it fall back against the fabric. “I’m clean, don’t worry. Now come pay your tribute.”

“Will do.” Techno said lowly. He bent down next to Wilbur and their lips connected briefly. Then he was on top of him, on his hands and knees leaving a trail of sloppy kisses from Wilbur’s collarbones down to the waist of his pants. Techno’s hands stayed firmly on his thighs, lips just below his navel. Wilbur shuddered, arching his hips upwards as Techno brushed a hand over his erection.

“Fucking hell,” Wilbur whispered, Techno palming him through the fabric. He looked Wilbur in the eye to see his face scrunched in pleasure, and then stopped. Wilbur looked disappointedly at him, and Techno looked positively enthralled. He smiled impossibly wide, hands resting on Wilbur’s belt.

“Can I-“

“Yes,” Wilbur said, cutting him off before he could even ask for permission. Techno carefully unbuckled it, slowly sliding it from Wilbur’s pants and dropping it to the floor with a soft clink and thud. Then he was undoing the buttons, and zipper and sliding the fabric down and onto the floor, the other lifting his legs to make it easier. 

Wilbur sank back into the cool leather, left in nothing but gray socks and boxers, body hot and needy, yet relaxed. Alcohol truly was a blessing. Techno sat back, eyes unfocused yet purposeful, roving over Wilbur’s body like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. And he just couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch it.

“You’re not done yet, Mister Blade,” Wilbur said, mocking one of their most obnoxious professors, and laughing softly. “Come on Techno.”

Techno rubbed him through the thin layer of soft fabric that remained, and Wilbur moaned needily, hips rising up from the couch to meet Techno’s hand. He was so desperate for the friction, to relieve the heat building in his body.

“You like that?” 

“Techno,” he whispered, “please.” Then Techno was sliding Wilbur’s boxers off his legs, and stroking his cock gently as he reached for the bottle of lube. Wilbur whined when he stopped, but watched eagerly as Techno peeled off the rest of his clothes, and slathered three of his fingers in lube.

Then he pressed one of them slowly into Wilbur, drawing a whine from the back of his throat. Techno’s slick finger slid in and out slowly, gently stretching him open, and when Wilbur was getting bored he slipped in the second. He scissored his fingers, prepping him enough to add the third in and Wilbur let out a moan, sounding as slutty as he possibly could.

“What if someone hears you?” Techno said, eyes still hazy, but sounding far too concerned. “These walls are thin.”

“It’s five in the morning,” Wilbur reasoned, “everyone should be asleep by now. It’s just us here. Now hurry up.”

“God you’re horny,” Techno muttered. Wilbur whined as Techno’s fingers slid out of him, arching his back to emphasize the point.

“ _ My love is selfish. I cannot breathe without you _ _,_ ” he quoted. And it was such a stupid, wholesome moment. Dim lamplight cast on bare skin and reflected in sleepy eyes. Wilbur couldn’t help but smile.

Techno slathered himself with lube, and poised to enter Wilbur, hooking one of his legs over his shoulder. He kissed Wilbur passionately, messily, easing into him. Wilbur tangled his fingers in the other’s hair, letting out a satisfied moan when he was all the way in. It felt so right.

Pleasure burned in his lower body, as Techno fit inside him, only causing a slight stretch. It felt so good, different from anyone else, like it was always meant to be. He arched his back, unable to get enough of the sensation. 

“ _ Techno _ ,” he gasped, pulling away from the kiss.

“Are you okay?” Techno asked, staying still as he gazed into Wilbur’s eyes.

“Never been better.” That was all the confirmation he needed. Then they were kissing again, and Techno was pulling out, thrusting into Wilbur slowly. He moaned into his mouth, lazily hooking his one free leg around Techno. And everything was just so easy, Techno stayed silent in focus, brow furrowed, eyes fluttering closed when the pleasure was overwhelming. 

The pace he set was sweet, and gentle, and Wilbur dragged his hands through his hair, along his spine and over his shoulders. Just wanting to feel more of him. They were so  _ close _ and it felt so right, it was something neither of them knew they’d needed but in a moment like this it was undeniable. There was nowhere else Wilbur would rather be, no one else he’d rather be with.

It was slow, and it was infinite, and time ticked by too quickly. The barest glimpses of morning came in through the window, orange and soft, casting patterns in the dim room. It illuminated their bare skin and sleepy eyes, and it was so special to be awake, to be together like this at this time. The day was new and they were something different, something they hadn’t been before.

Everything was fuzzy, and warm, pleasure growing more acute as Techno picked up his pace, panting gently, trying to keep himself from spilling over. Wilbur buried his face in his neck, murmuring softly.

“I’m close.” Techno tangled his fingers in Wilbur’s hair, turning his head so he could take his lips, thrusts becoming erratic. It was such an intimate kiss, so warm, as they held onto each other for dear life, desperately seeking release but not quite ready for this to be over. Techno broke the kiss for a moment.

“You’re so perfect, Wilbur,” he murmured.

“Mmm, I know,” Wilbur said, drowsy eyes half lidded and heavy. “You’re pretty good too.” They laughed softly, and then Wilbur kissed him again, moaning softly, his whole body twitching as he neared his climax. One more thrust and he was spilling over, splattering his chest and stomach. 

“S-shit,” Techno gasped, finally coming undone a few moments later. He stayed there, supporting himself with shaky arms, panting. Wilbur looked up at him with soft eyes, and the look in his was something special. Wilbur felt, loved, appreciated in a way he never had with someone before. He felt good, he didn’t feel dirty.

Techno pulled out, laying beside Wilbur, the two of them just barely being able to fit. They were a beautiful, sticky, sweaty mess, but neither of them cared, It was so easy, so relaxing. Their eyes were heavy, and there was something innocent about the pale morning light, something enchanting. This was perfect.

For the first time in a long time, Wilbur didn’t feel like he’d made a mistake, but he wasn’t sober yet. He just hoped this would be as special when he woke up in the morning.

  
  



End file.
